An Improper Bride (Elliot & Annabelle #2) (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 4)

by Nadia Lee

  “Eighteen would’ve made you adults.”

  “Yes, but twenty-one ensured that nothing our parents could come up with would work. Lucas and I had no desire to give either of them a penny.”

  “You guys are identical twins, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “You must’ve been pure terror, too smart and too good-looking.”

  Elliot laughs. “We had our moments, but running the company kept us busy. You have no idea how much work it takes to remain anonymous on top of everything else we had to do. None of the workers ever saw us. None of them would’ve been surprised if we were two hermits living in a cabin in the middle of nowhere with only a satellite connection for internet. They had no idea we were just college nerds. Besides…” He dumps more sugar cubes into his tea. “Even if we’d wanted to sell earlier, we couldn’t. It’s not a well-publicized story, but we had some problems with our CFO, who turned out to be an embezzling asshole. If he’d gotten away with it, he would’ve made a small fortune from the sale since he would’ve gotten a slice of the sales price. All the C-suite guys had that going for them, but Lucas and I would’ve been damned if he got anything after he’d already stolen from us.”

  “Did he go to jail?”

  He shakes his head. “He was very, very lucky. Had an assistant who took the fall for him.” Elliot sips his tea, then nods in approval. “How about you? What were you doing in school?”

  “Nothing serious. I was studying finance.” I sigh at the stupid dream. “I was going to join my dad.” And just the thought of that dims my mood. “That was before I knew what he was really up to.” I keep my voice light, like I’m telling a joke. In a way it was a joke…on me.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Maybe it’s better that I had to quit after two years. It would’ve come out sooner or later. At least this way, I can change my major and do something else with my life.”

  “What your dad did doesn’t define you.”

  “It doesn’t and it shouldn’t, but it feels that way. He was supposed to be the champion of helping smaller guys get their share of the American dream—a nice retirement, sending their kids to college, maybe a vacation here and there. Nothing extravagant, but still something worthwhile.” I exhale roughly. “Everyone in town loved him because he made them rich. They treated me and Nonny like princesses. Then the pyramid collapsed, and we were public enemy number one. The only saving grace is that my dad and his scheme didn’t get massive national publicity like Madoff. He was a small fish, you know? But the local media were relentless.”

  Elliot reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You don’t have to think about the past. Nobody is going to hold that against you in L.A. It’s the city of fresh starts.”

  I give him a pat smile even as Dennis’s shocked face and furious demands resurface in my mind. Dennis and I both share a past. So long as I live, I will not be able to shed my legacy as the daughter of Aaron Key.

  “Is this why you want to work?” Elliot asks. “You want to see what you might like better?”

  “Something like that, plus it might be nice to be appreciated enough to make some extra cash on the side,” I fib. It’s easier than telling him about how stupid I’ve been with Mr. Grayson. Poverty and desperation aren’t good enough excuses for tying myself to a man with dubious intentions.

  Elliot tilts his head, his eyes entirely too penetrating. “If you want, I can ask around and see.”

  I start to shake my head…but then think better of it. “Okay. I’d like that.” Even if it’s a non-paying position, it would be a good idea for me to start networking and make my own friends who can be there for me after my time with Elliot is up. I have to think long-term, beyond my time with Elliot. I have a whole life ahead of me.

  We curl up together and watch a movie. Something short—about ninety minutes because that’s all the time we have before landing. I don’t remember much about the flick though because I am too busy absorbing Elliot’s intoxicating scent and bone-melting warmth.

  There’s still some light when we land in St. Cecilia, even though we have at least two hours before dinnertime. Unlike L.A., the air is moist and clean with sea and salt. I breathe in deeply, looking up at the orange and purple sky that seems to come right down and touch us.

  A black Bentley SUV waits for us at the private airport along with a driver in a black uniform. In deference to the hot, tropical weather, his shirt has short sleeves although his pants are long.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Reed,” he says softly. “Welcome to St. Cecilia.” He opens the door and loads our luggage into the car. An official glances at our passports, then we’re off.

  The drive is uneventful, but I squirm the entire time because Elliot turns on the vibrator as soon as we climb inside the car. It hums nicely on low intensity, and the purr of the engine only intensifies my lust. Elliot behaves, since there is no privacy partition between us and the driver, but his eyes are dark, his nostrils flaring when I bite my lower lip. He is acutely aware of the kind of torment he’s putting me through.

  The resort is swanky. There is no other word for the soaring ceiling and glittering marble lobby, the interesting chandeliers, abstract sculptures and paintings. The place is contemporary and breezy, glossed with elegance and wealth. Every inch of the interior says this is the kind of spot you go to when money is no object and you want to have all your whims fulfilled by a courteous staff.

  A front desk clerk in a floral, tropical dress checks us in. “Honeymoon villa.” She confirms the rest of the reservation details and smiles. “Welcome to Aylster Resort and Spa, Mr. and Mrs. Reed. And congratulations.”

  A man appears. He is in his fifties, his skin darkly tanned from the tropical sun. His black uniform has a short-sleeve top similar to our driver.

  “Good evening. I’m Marco, and I’ll be your butler during your stay.”

  My eyebrows rise. Another butler? Seriously? Elliot listens to Marco’s introduction with a blasé expression.

  Marco leads us to our villa, while another staff member brings our suitcases. The garden is massive, with lush vegetation and trees—I recognize banana and palm but there are others as well. Our villa faces tranquil, turquoise water with sand that looks finer than wet silk. The master suite leads to a private pool and hot tub, and the living room is luxuriously appointed with leather couches and contemporary glass-top tables. The flooring is hardwood, carefully polished and waxed. There is even a small kitchenette with a fully stocked mini-fridge and a few items for tea and coffee.

  “If you’d like anything, please do not hesitate to call. There are phones by your bed, in the master bath, in the living room and by the pool.” He gestures at our bags. “I’ll unpack now, if that’s all right. Do you have any special instructions?”

  I shake my head, dumbfounded. Elliot says, “We’d like to dine a bit early. What do you recommend?”

  “There are seven restaurants and a bar on the resort, but if you’d like something more private, a dinner on the beach can be arranged in an hour. Would that be acceptable?”

  Elliot looks at me. “What do you think?”

  “Private.”

  He turns back to Marco. “Dinner on the beach. Anything specific you recommend?”

  “Today’s fresh catch is excellent, unless you do not care for seafood.”

  “Then I’ll have that.” Elliot glances at me.

  I nod.

  “Make that two,” he says.

  “Champagne or wine?”

  “No, thank you.” Elliot dismisses the butler with a small motion of his head.

  I just stare as our butler takes care of everything. “Oh wow.”

  Elliot presses his chest against my back, wrapping his arms around me, and leads me to the pool. “We should just chill until Marco’s finished. It won’t take him any time at all.” He sits in one of the lounging chairs, pulling me onto his lap.

  His thick cock is hard and pressing against my backside. The vibrator inside m
e buzzes with more intensity.

  “Elliot,” I gasp, then squirm.

  His teeth nip my ear. “I want to feel you come.”

  “But Marco’s in there.” I gesture helplessly at the villa.

  “He isn’t going to know. And even if he does, what do you care?” Elliot’s breath fans hotly against my neck. His hands skim along my arms, making me shiver.

  I moan, turning around so we can be pressed face-to-face. The vibrator pulses harder, and I let my body sink into him, my mouth on his. Elliot is right. I don’t care about Marco or anything else at all as a climax sweeps over me.

  * * *

  Annabelle

  Elliot is correct about Marco being fast. He’s gone by the time I recover from the orgasm. All our suitcases have been unpacked, our clothes pressed and neatly hanging in the closet.

  The vibrator isn’t doing anything for now, but I know Elliot could turn it on at any time. My muscles clench around it, and I breathe out between my lips. The control it gives Elliot—the way he can make it go high and make me come whenever he wants—is hot. Just thinking about it makes my skin heat. If someone had told me that I would allow anyone to do this to me, I would’ve laughed in their face. But now…

  Now, everything is different because I’ve met Elliot.

  The memory abruptly chills me. We didn’t meet by chance. Mr. Grayson had something to do with it, no matter how small. I make a mental note to figure out what he ultimately wants, even though I have no idea how I’m going to do that at the moment. Later, I tell myself firmly. I don’t want to ruin our honeymoon by worrying about someone as sketchy as Mr. Grayson.

  I freshen up with a quick shower and put on a light, white sleeveless sundress with an asymmetrical hemline, while Elliot takes a dip in the pool. The man does love to swim. I admire the easy way he pushes forward through the water, his muscles working beautifully together like a perfect set of gears. The visual is a superb turn-on, especially when combined with the crazy amount of control I’ve given him.

  “Dinner’s ready in fifteen minutes,” I tell him, walking outside, my bare feet hitting the smooth wooden deck.

  “I know.” He comes out of the pool, the water streaming down his sleek body in rivulets.

  I sigh mentally. What wouldn’t I give to lick the droplets clinging to his taut, golden skin?

  “If you keep giving me that ‘fuck me’ look, we won’t be eating.”

  “A terrible fate.”

  “But it would be.” He shoots me a wicked grin. “I plan to exhaust you, beautiful, and you gotta keep your strength up.”

  I flush.

  He laughs, then disappears into the door that leads to the master bathroom. It has a big glass shower with multiple heads and a huge separate sunken tub that can easily fit two adults.

  I sit and enjoy the view of the final moments of sunset over the ocean. The sun is almost gone, but the last curved sliver turns the sky dark purple and red. A cooling breeze comes in from the sea. It makes you want to smile dreamily and stretch your arms over your head…so I do. This is as close to heaven as I can get. I squirm. Well… I also need Elliot inside me soon or I’m going to go mad in this paradise.

  It doesn’t take long before he reappears, padding barefoot across the deck. He’s in a white button-down shirt with short sleeves and pale cream shorts. His dark hair is damp, and he looks utterly kissable as he sits at my feet.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks.

  “That I’m happy. And that I want you.” The breeze tugs at my hair, and I push it out of my face. “You?”

  “Exactly the same.”

  He leans close and my heart picks up its tempo, my lips parting.

  Something buzzes. And it’s not the vibrator.

  He pulls back with a soft curse and looks at his phone. The good humor glides off his face like oil.

  “Something wrong?” I ask.

  His fingers move deftly as he types something. “No,” he says. “Nothing that can’t wait.” He gives me his hand. “Let’s go eat. I can smell the fish.”

  I sniff. Now that he mentions it, there is a hint of fresh bread and grilled seafood in the air. He links his fingers with mine and pulls me to my feet.

  I let him lead, our toes sinking into the soft sand. And I wish that this is how our lives could be until our time’s up.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Elliot

  The table for two is set up on the beach with candles and tropical bouquets of purple orchids, tiger lilies, stargazer lilies and orange gladiolus. It’s a lot fancier than I expected given how little time the staff had to work with. On the other hand, this is why Aylster charges what it charges.

  The dinner is simple: a green salad with edible flowers and grilled grouper with some kind of dark butter sauce. Since we aren’t drinking champagne, our waiter serves us sparkling water with fresh lime slices instead.

  My wife’s got that scrubbed look—her cheeks flushed, her hair soft and shiny over her shoulders, her only makeup a pink lip gloss. The white sundress is casual but airy and positively bridal.

  With the sky completely black now, the candlelight casts a soft glow, turning her so ethereal and beautiful that it hurts to look at her. She smiles at me, and I smile back even though a cold shard cuts through me.

  More complicated than expected. How deep do you want to dig?

  Paddington’s text doesn’t mention money. The people who hire him don’t worry about how much things cost. I told him to go all the way, but my apprehension won’t leave me.

  Just what the hell is in my wife’s background? Her finances and so on should be straightforward, and it shouldn’t take Paddington and his team more than a couple of days to pull everything.

  A part of me wants to blame the intern—he’s probably the one with some messy crap in his past. But even as I tell myself that, I don’t believe it. Paddington’s been looking into him on Gavin’s behalf already. This isn’t about Dennis Dunn.

  I pull my shirt over my head and glare at Annabelle. The clothes land in the laundry hamper in the bedroom. “Why the hell were you meeting Han?” I demand.

  “Oh for god’s sake, it was nothing,” she says.

  “Nobody meets my dad’s assistant—his right-hand man—for nothing.”

  “Are you accusing me?” She puts a hand between her breasts, which are rising and falling rapidly. “And how did you know I was meeting him anyway? Were you following me?”

  “I didn’t have to do anything. You were at the table with him in the café across from that chocolatier you like so much. I happened to be driving by and saw.”

  “And you didn’t stop to say hello?” She throws her hands up in the air. “Then you would’ve known I have nothing to hide.”

  I’m tired of her deflections and anger. Why can’t she give me a simple answer? “So tell me now.”

  She crosses her arms, the motion making her tits balloon. The nipples push against her thin magenta blouse. “He was fishing for information about you. Somehow, your dad figured out that we’re dating, which was a big surprise to me since I thought we were keeping it quiet. I told you I wanted to keep it quiet because Marlin will lose it if he finds out.”

  That makes me pause. Marlin is Lucas’ and my mentor, and he is extremely protective of his niece. Childless himself, he treats her as though she’s his own daughter.

  “Did you tell your father about me?” she says, her voice accusing.

  “Of course not.”

  “Then how did he know?”

  “I have no clue, but he’s always been a nosy bastard.” The asshole probably hired a PI to spy on me and Lucas. He knows we’re up to something, but he doesn’t know exactly what. And he won’t find out until we’re ready to tell him. Not even Annabelle knows, even though she’s practically my fiancée. Well… We’ll be engaged as soon as the company sells and I have the money in my bank account. I want to make sure I can provide for her before I make my move. I know she values financial security.


  She sighs, her shoulders drooping. “Why are we fighting?” She comes closer and presses her body against mine.

  My arms wrap around her. When I hold her like this, it’s hard to stay angry. I still don’t like it that she met with Han or that she tries to deflect and accuse me every time I question her, but I push those feelings away. I’m probably being over-sensitive, what with so many things going on at the company. There’s the matter of organizing the sale and dealing with Keith the embezzling asshole. I shouldn’t let the stress and pressure spill into what I have with Annabelle. She is one person who will never lie to me.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “Me, too. I should’ve been more careful so I don’t do anything to arouse your suspicions. I know you don’t react well when it comes to your father.”

  “And I should trust you.”

  “You should,” she says, smiling now. “You know I’d never betray you.”

  Within a month she announced her engagement to my dad. It still turns my stomach that she was spreading her legs for both of us. It infuriates me that I let her blindside me, that I ignored all the warning signs.

  I look at my wife over the rim of my glass. Dad won’t try to marry Belle. At this point, that would be…unoriginal.

  She finishes her fish and sighs, the curve of her lips soft with pleasure. Her gaze drops to my plate, where my meal sits half-eaten. “You don’t like it?”

  “It’s fine.” It tastes like sawdust. “I’m just not that hungry.”

  Her cheeks turn pink. “Are you hungry for something else?”

  “Something like that.” I place my glass on the table. “Belle.”

  “Yes?” She lifts her guileless eyes to meet mine.

  “You would tell me if there’s anything important, wouldn’t you?”

  “Important? Like what?”

  If you’re thinking about betraying me. “Secrets that can impact both of us.”

  Licking her lips, she reaches for her water. “Of course, but what is this about? Did something happen?”